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Monthly Archives: April 2011

So, yeah, believe it or not, I did watch part of the Royal Wedding yesterday, and I watched TLC’s recap special last night. Not so big a fan that I got up in the middle of the night, but I flipped the TV on just after 6 and caught the “I wills”. I’m not a fan of the monarchy. I think the days are gone where people should be ruled by other people “just cuz”. However, I’m a BIG of fan of theatre, spectacle and romance, and it did not disappoint.

Here’s a few thoughts. ‘E ‘asn’t much ‘air, ‘as ‘e? Perhaps there are camera angle which the Royal Person should forbid. Somebody should tell him about this. Seriously, hasn’t he got people for that?

And what was Princess Beatrice thinking? That was the Weirdest Hat Ever, in a vast SEA of weird hats. Clinton Kelly’s comment was “I want to toss balls through it. Do you have Skeeball in England?” On the money. He amuses me.

The Queen, who always looks to me like she is wearing the exact same dress, just in a different colour, does not sing during God Save the Queen. Which kind of makes sense. “God save my gracious ME, long live my noble ME, God sa-ve … MEEEE!” Sick to death of that one, I’m sure. I did like her colour choice. She’s a pretty grim old gal, though. I wouldn’t want to piss her off.

The kids were adorable, particularly the tiny grouchy munchkin and the goofy guy.

Also, the bride looked perfect, in my book. Unlike Diana’s giant poofy duvet of a dress, hers was simple and fit beautifully and could have been worn in any decade. Classic. She’s a real beauty, and I like that twisty little lopsided smile, she’s adorable.

So, now I really want to knit the little Royal Wedding people. They’ll need to adjust some things, though, like Will’s red jacket, and the colour of the Queen’s ensemble. The Archbishop of Canterbury was right on the money, though. They probably weren’t taking odds on what he was going to wear. And speaking of odds, good for Prince Phillip for staying awake through the whole ceremony! Cheers, old man!

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Ai Yi, my blogging has fallen off lately. There’s several reasons behind this, in case you care, or even if you don’t. Here’s a LIST, cuz you know I love lists:

1. A lot of negative stuff has been going on lately, and I don’t want to fill up the blogosphere with a bunch of negativity. If I feed it attention, it will grow. On the other hand, if I don’t let it out once in a while, it’ll kill me. It’s a fine, fine line I tread. It’s not easy being me, no matter what it looks like. Just getting pants is tricky.

2. I have several rants I want to get out of my system, but I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or cause a lot of controversy, and I know several readers who might be personally hurt by some of the things I have to say. So, these go in the Top Secret Superblog, also know as Muttering to Myself. While I do wish to remain true to myself, I know I can be too outspoken at times (understatement?). I really don’t want to hurt or offend anyone, no matter How Wrong They Are!!! You have every right to be wrong. So do I. I’ll try to keep it to myself.

3. My main computer was out of commission for a while. It got the LizaMoon virus. It’s fixed now thanks to the combined awesomeness of Mr. M and Biggie D. Be careful out there, kids, and back up often.

4. My drum carder finally arrived from buddy Bubba in Georgia, and I’ve been spending a lot of quality time with my fluffies.

5. Sometimes, I just need to be alone. Honestly, occasionally I just don’t play very well with others. Many of you know that I’ve suffered from anxiety and depression for most of my life, or if you didn’t know, you do now. On the upside, I’m aware of it. On the downside, it’s a bit lonely in here sometimes. Sometimes I need to be visited, too. Come on by, say hello. I miss you.

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My drum carder came last week, and yesterday I had a good chance to get it set up and adjusted properly. What a babe! Like so many fibre tools, it’s beautiful in its simplicity. Two rollers, covered with tiny teeth, turned by a handle. That’s it. In my experience, the fewer parts something has and the fewer functions it is supposed to perform, the better it works and the longer it lasts. This baby is simple, but the result – priceless. Soft, untangled and wonderfully spinnable.

I also like the wastelessness of it (is that a word?). I went throught my scrap bag and sorted little odds and sods by colour, and then just dived right in. A little of this, a little of that for contrast, some of that for softness, some of that for glitz. Use EVERYTHING – and voila! Beautifully blended, heathery batts. So magical! I did one in pinks and greys, one exclusively in shades of grey, one blues and greens, and one in dark reds, gold and copper. They’re all gorgeous.

I’ve been trying to put some pictures here, but they don’t want to load. There’s some on my Facebook, if you want to look.

Okay, so it cost – a lot. Basically, it was most of my income tax return. But I’ve wanted one for years. It was handmade, shipped from Georgia, and the guy in the shop I’ve been dealing with is named Bubba. No guff. Seriously. If that ain’t authentic, I don’t know what is. It is heavy and solid and gorgeous.

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a crow in a treetattooszombie monkeysglazed hamsummer plansvacuum cleaner beltsmedication

I love lists. I make lots of lists. I make lists of things to do, of movies I want to see, of people I hope come to my funeral. I make lists of long-term plans, and things-to-do-today. I make lists of things that make me happy, and things that annoy me. I make lists of things I plan to blog about one day. I make lists of the top ten things that would make my life better, and of cheese-induced dreams I have had.

There is nothing more satisfying than crossing the first item off your to-do list, unless it’s crossing off the last item.

I like coming across old lists, and wondering what the common thread was. My lists never have titles. They don’t hang around. They get shoved in books, crumpled into pockets, recycled, left in shopping carts. I like finding other people’s lists, too. Sometimes I can’t read my own writing, and I wonder what I meant by “snorket”.

Some of my lists are secret. I don’t write them down, or if I do, I get rid of them when I’m done. List of people who piss me off. List of things I dislike about myself. List of top ten rotten things I’ve done in my life. List of weird sex stuff.

The act of writing them out and destroying them is cathartic for me. When I was a student, I learned best by writing things out. It solidifies things for me, imprints them into my brain.

When people do the unspeakable and/or unforgivable to me, I threaten them with the worst punishment I know – crossing them off my Christmas card list. Before you worry because I haven’t sent you a card, keep in mind that I haven’t actually sent cards for years. I just have an imaginary Christmas card list, and if you’re naughty, you’re crossed right off. Sometimes I let people back on, though.

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I’m in bed. It’s Sunday, it’s about 9:30. The window is open, it’s a little chilly, starting to snow, but cozy under the duvet. The radio is on, very quietly, the classical station. Little Cat has decided not to be crazy today, and is sitting nicely beside me, purring. I don’t have to get up to go to the gym for another half an hour. I already got up and fetched a cup of coffee and piece of pie.

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Well, by golly, yer ol’ buddy Lynne hasn’t been this riled up about an election in some time, let me tell you.

I’m scared. It feels like the End of Days. There’s too many frightening tragedies happening all over the world. There’s too many natural disasters, too many scary dictators, and too many people dying. I want to be safe at home. Safe. At. Home. In CANADA, for pete’s sake. In quiet, polite, democratic CANADA. My Canada isn’t run by a megalomaniac. My Canada is a true, honest, democracy. My Canada cares about the good of the planet, the good of its people, and the good of its neighbours. My Canada is a good global citizen. And the Government of Canada (that’s what it’s called, Stevie), elected by the people of Canada, has the task of carrying out the wishes of the people for the greatest good of the country.

Politics should be a noble calling. Politicians are the servants of the people, at least in a democratic society. Here’s what I just don’t understand:

I know NO ONE personally who votes Conservative, to the best of my knowledge. And yet I see Mr. Del Mastro’s big blue signs, all over town. SOMEone voted for him, and SOMEone plans to do so again. I didn’t buy my car from him, and I’m sure as hell not going to vote for someone who wants to put a conference centre on Little Lake and tear down the CBC.

WHY are people voting for him? And WHO is voting for him? There are a lot of seniors in this community, and maybe I’m wrong, but I believe that they traditionally tend to vote PC. Because their parents did. And their parents did. I would really like to see two things happen over the next couple of weeks. One, a giant Liberal blitz through every senior’s residence in town, and two, for the young people to vote.

I saw a poll that suggested that if more youth voted, that the policital picture in Canada would be radically different, with the Liberals at something like 27%, and the PCs at about 18, with the balance split pretty evenly between the NDP and the Green. I forget where the Bloc stood. But that is astounding!

All I can see is a man whom I don’t trust, who has shown time and time again that he is self-centred and dishonest, running this country. He’s not respected internationally (see the summit on climate change) and cares more for appearance than for substance (i.e. the Fake Lake, and his spin-doctored, kitten-holding, cardigan-wearing downhome nonsense).

Come back, Mr.Trudeau, I miss you.

Anyone in Peterborough, particularly younger voters, who wants a ride to the polling station on election day, I’m free any time after 4:15. I don’t care how you vote. Just vote. I’ll drive you there. Because I think that if more people who really thought about it voted, that there would be a very different outcome.

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It’s me. Sorry, I haven’t been on here lately. I’ve been super busy and my main computer is fubar. It’s at the Biggie D Memorial Hospital right now. I hope it lives, but I got that new virus, the one that wipes out your anti-virus program. I want to say it’s called Norma Jean, or Ruby Marie, or something. Anyway, if something pops up and asks you if you want it to scan your system because you appear to have viruses, just say no, thank you. 😦

I went to Toronto last weekend, that’s exciting. Kensington Market on the sunny Saturday. It was lovely, the park was full of people soaking up the sun, the buskers were out, and the yarn store was OPEN. I didn’t buy yarn, as I’m currently under a self-imposed ban, but I did buy a pattern to entice me to finish up some half-done projects so I can buy more yarn. It’s called “Rogue”, and it’s a hoodie with beautiful cables around the neck and hood, and the sleeves and sides. They had one made up at Lettuce Knit, and I’m kind of in love with it. Okay, not “kind of”, more like totally.

Also exciting was the fact that we parked on Leonard Avenue, behind the hospital, and I took some pictures at 68 Wales where Frieda and I lived in the 80s. I had forgotten about the cute little leaded windows. They were in the kitchen cupboards too. Very adorable, it was like living with Heidi’s grandfather. I took some pictures, which I’ll add when the computer is feeling better. Those were the days, my friend. At least, the ones that I remember were great.